


Carry On Dark Lord

by Spikyowl



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Camping, Comedy, Harry Potter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:56:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6668578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikyowl/pseuds/Spikyowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a deep dark forest in Albania, the Dark Lord has been living a half-life for many years. With the arrival of Wormtail, with a tent and a pushchair, Voldemort's luck begins to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! I just want to explain that this story may have a few plot-holes, but I hope you can overlook them and enjoy the story in the spirit in which it was written.
> 
> -Spikyowl

A barn owl was perched on a branch of a tree growing on the edge of a clearing, poised for flight. It spread its long white wings and swooped off in to the clearing.

"Avada Kedavra!" Called a high, cold voice. There was a blinding flash of green light and the owl, who had intended to go and hunt, dropped to the ground, dead.

The voice had issued from what, at first glance, looked like an extremely ugly baby wrapped in rags in front of a crackling fire. This was no baby. This was the most powerful dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. However, for thirteen years, he had been barley alive after being thwarted by one-year-old Harry Potter. He had taken the best form he could, which wasn't very good at all, he resembled a grotesque baby with significantly elongated limbs. With people thinking he was gone for good, he had fled to a vast forest in Albania, hiding and biding his time.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort called into the dense forest, "are you quite finished in there yet?"  
There was a little squeal, and a whimpering voice spoke:

"N-not quite, my Lord. I apologise my Lord!"

"You had better bury it this time! I cannot do with that stench tarnishing my nostrils!" Voldemort croaked.

"But, my Lord, you don't even have a no-"

"SILENCE WORMTAIL!"

After about five minutes full of the sound of the man named Wormtail's grunting (he was obviously obeying his master, and burying his leavings), he emerged from the forest; he was short and had the look of someone who used to be rather plump, but was fed rat pellets for twelve years. His matted brown hair was thinning, and his face was very rodent-like. He bowed shakily to Voldemort and sat down opposite him, the fire in between them. 

"We need to talk about our position at the present time. I have grown wary of eating owls and other creatures of the forest, although the Bertha Jorkins barbecue we had last month was quite... palatable," Voldemort said with a sigh, (Wormtail winced a little, but Voldemort did not notice) "I have often found myself longing for a KitKat."

"My Lord-" Wormtail began, but Voldemort cut across him.

"I have not finished. I am also getting tired of this bloody tent!" He gestured to a Vengo 500 tent with a small, bony hand. "It has collapsed on us while we slumber, every other night for an age! In addition, I cannot put up with any more of your ratty flatulence!" Wormtail's pock-marked cheeks went scarlet.

"If I may ask, my Lord, have you ever thought about caravanning?"

"What in Merlin's name is that?" Voldemort spat at Wormtail.

"A caravan, my Lord, is one step up from a tent. My dear Lord would be enclosed in a shell of aluminium and fibre glass; were we to park on a caravan site, we would have the luxury of running water, heating, and even a toilet my Lord!" Said Wormtail, eagerly.

"We don't need any of that! I will not take advantage of filthy muggle power!" Growled Voldemort.

"But my Lord! Imagine the increased security! There won't be another repeat of the squirrel incident, where-"

"DON'T YOU DARE! I TOLD YOU TO NEVER MENTION THAT EVER AGAIN!" Hissed Voldemort, "although, it would seem to be prudent to acquire one of these 'cavarans' of which you speak." 

Even in his excited state, Wormtail managed not to correct Voldemort's mistake.


	2. The Unwanted Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wormtail and Voldemort leave the forest, on the hunt for a caravan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers. Sorry I've taken ages to post chapter two. Hope you enjoy reading this!

The Dark Lord and Wormtail left their familiar camp the very next day (Voldemort was not that pleased about having to endure one more night of flatulence and tent-crumpling). Wormtail had packed up the few possessions they had there (including a few of Wormtail's homemade CDs), but the defective tent, which they left abandoned. 

"How exactly are we to acquire a 'cavaran', Wormtail?" Voldemort asked, while being strapped in to his green snake-patterned pushchair.

"It's fairly straightforward, my Lord," Wormtail whimpered, his hands shaking as he fastened the seatbelt buckle. "We walk out of the forest and over to the main road; then we hide in the bushes until a tourist comes with a-" He wouldn't dare correct the Dark Lord, "'cavaran'; then we jump out and take it off of them!"

"I think you will find that I make the plans here, fool." Said Voldemort in an intimidating voice.

"But, my Lord, you just asked-"

"HOLD YOUR TOUNGE! Now, let us go!" 

"B-before we go, my Lord, do you want me to fasten this bottom strap?" And with a quaking finger, Wormtail pointed at a strap that would fasten between Voldemort's legs.

"No! I said we must go. Now!"

Wormtail flicked his wand and the pushchair floated about three feet up into the air, and followed him as he walked. Wormtail was much too frightened to talk the plan over with his Lord, and was worried how it would turn out them only going over it once. After about half an hour of silence (apart from when Wormtail accidentally made Voldemort's pushchair crash into a tree, quite the opposite of silence occurred), they reached the edge of the forest. They emerged from the forest and looked at the grassy incline in front of them that lead to a little road. It was a hot summer's day.

"I forgot how much I despised sunlight." moaned Voldemort.

"I'll have to get you a hat to protect you!" Wheezed Wormtail, clearly getting excited again.

"Let me down and push me down the bank, I do not trust you when you are giddy and I do not want to break my neck." Voldemort ordered.

"Right away, my Lord,". So Wormtail let him down and made down the bank. They were approximately one quarter of the way down when an angry wasp appeared and seized the opportunity to attack the pair of them. Wormtail squealed and let go of the pushchair handles to bat the wasp away.

"NOOOOO! WORMTAIL!"

Voldemort was zooming away down the hill at an alarming rate, his arms flailing helplessly and grass blades and flowers (which had just been severed by the pushchair's wheels) were flying out behind him. He came to a sudden halt when the pushchair's front wheel got caught on a rock, but then, he slid out of the bottom of the seatbelt and bounced into a bush at the side of the road. Wormtail started running and stumbling down the hill, wailing and spluttering things like "but the wasp!" and "my poor Lord", when he suddenly spotted two muggle tourists with backpacks walking along on the side of road. He quickly changed what he was saying to: "My baby! My baby!". He reached Voldemort, who hadn't seen the muggles.

"What on Earth are you on about, Wormtail?" Voldemort uttered in a deadly whisper.

"Trust me, my Lord." He squeaked.

"I have already-" Voldemort started, but his words were drowned.

"Oh my god! Is your baby alright?" Squealed one of the tourists, a blonde, Scottish lady.

"We saw what happened from down here! I know first aid!" Said the second woman, with a large sunhat and sunglasses.

"There is no need, really!" Wormtail kept repeating, "he is is quite all right!"

"I am not all right! You shall pay for this, Wormtail!" Voldemort ranted, rolling over and kicking his legs as Wormtail de-tangled him - still wrapped in his blankets - from the bush. He held him in his arms.

"He's quite - er - eloquent, for a little one, isn't he?" said the first lady with a fond smile, "how old is he?"

"He's almost seventy-" Wormtail began but he saw the horrendous look on Voldemort's already horrendous-looking face, "-weeks."

"What an odd way of putting it!" smiled the woman in the sunhat, "can we have a little look at him?"

"No, Wormtail!" Voldemort hissed as Wormtail made to show him to the ladies. He took out his wand from his bundle and whispered: "Imperio!". The smiley faces of the women suddenly went slack and neutral. "You will tell us where the nearest and most appropriate campsite is".

"Thirty eight miles south." The blonde-haired woman said in a monotone voice.

"You know this, how?".

"We were there a fortnight ago with our tent" she pointed at her backpack where a large green package was poking out. Voldemort's tiny raisin-like face shrivelled with dislike.

"Very well. Wormtail!" (Wormtail jumped so badly, that he almost dropped his master.) "you set me down in my chair and then take care of these muggles!". Wormtail first assessed the damage to the pushchair. One of the front wheels was missing.

"M-my lord, the wheel is gone." Wormtail whimpered.

"This is your fault, you cretin. You had better redeem yourself before I dispose of you." Voldemort said, glaring at Wormtail with pure hatred in his red, snakelike eyes. Wormtail's face went as white as a sheet, Then his eyes opened ludicrously wide. He had besmirched his trousers; Voldemort hadn't noticed. Wormtail set him down in the broken pushchair. "GO TAKE CARE OF THE MUGGLES!" Voldemort yelled at him through gritted, black teeth. Wormtail turned and walked very slowly towards the spellbound muggles, holding his bottom. He looked around at Voldemort who was busy trying to tuck himself in; Wormtail didn't want to kill these people, he would make them forget and send them on their way. Then he would sort out his little trouser problem. He pointed his wand at the women.

"Obliviate." The ladies' eyes widened as they forgot the last ten minutes. "Imperio. You are to c-continue on your holiday. Oh, and g-give me your hat." Wormtail said, quietly, to the woman with the sunglasses. She raised her hand to her large, fuscia hat, almost robotically, and passed it to Wormtail. The women started walking away, and Wormtail seized the opportunity to quickly tip out the unwanted guest in his grubby Y-fronts. He walked back to Voldemort, who had finished tucking himself in, and showed him the sunhat.

"What is this, Wormtail?" Voldemort said eyeing the hat. "Pink is definitely not my colour!" 

"But it might work, my lord! If I found a pretty daffodil and put it on the hat!" Wheezed Wormtail getting excited yet again. He grabbed the handles of the pushchair and tipped it back onto its back wheels, still babbling about dressing Voldemort up. They started moving towards the main road, where they would wait for a passing caravan.


End file.
